


Timeless Treasure

by DraceDomino



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Dominance, Dubious Consent, F/F, Fingerfucking, Forced Orgasm, Mindbreak, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Teasing, Time Control, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:04:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7082608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraceDomino/pseuds/DraceDomino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poor Tracer, caught in the closing palm of Widowmaker. It's even worse for her knowing that Widowmaker's managed to seize control of her chronal accelerator. Heavy teasing, domination, mindbreak, orgasm denial, orgasm stretching, and more! Is time play a kink? Well it is now!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timeless Treasure

Timeless Treasure  
-By Drace Domino

How much time had passed? She couldn’t possibly hope to know. Seconds had turned into hours and then into minutes...and then down into milliseconds and stretched out into infinite. At least, that was what it felt like. Even during the six months following her accident she hadn’t felt so utterly weak and helpless under the slowly stretching web of time, but through it all she knew she only had one woman to blame for it all. To blame for every second of withheld tension and to thank for every infinity of delight. And somehow, that only made the girl’s muscle tense a little more, and her temper flare with bright red cheeks and a desperate wail that only barely faded through the slipstream into the active time.

“--ou ‘ave to stop teasin’ me!” Tracer’s head jerked up, one eye twitching as drop of sweat actively crept up her brow. It moved past the edge of her nose and over the line of her eyebrow, sinking back in against her pores as she gave another staggered whimper. “Y’gotta end this already! I’m goin’ right daffy if it keeps on like this!”

The girl was suspended, in far more ways than one. Hanging from a grappling cable with her hands suspended above her head would’ve been enough to deal with, especially with two more cables wrapped around her ankles and locking them into place at the far walls. Every limb was suspended and spread to leave the young lady completely exposed, something that was quite easy considering she was only wearing her chronal accelerator strapped across her chest. Every other part of Lena had been stripped and left bare; her small but perky breasts sitting against the straps of her accelerator and her shaved, smooth slit visible and wet and pink. Her fingers and toes tightened and flexed and her cute breasts shook with every breath, her head bobbing back and forth as she gave another whimper to the room. Once more her voice sounded vaguely out of synch, slipping quickly from too fast to too slow, and never quite where it was supposed to be.

“Widowmakerpleasethisisgooooooooooiiiiiiiiinnnnnnng toooooooooooo faaaaaaarImeanseriouslywhatareyatryin’tooooooooooooo dooooooooooooooo ta’me!?” Widowmaker only smirked, and though it was a little tricky to discern the young lady’s words amidst the temporal chaos going on all around her, half of the fun was figuring out the puzzle. As the blue skinned woman stood to the side she once more moved her fingers down to a simple device she had been given; a lovely little remote control with a handy little dial synced right to Lena’s high tech chest piece.

“I would think it obvious what I’m trying to do, cherie.” She offered in a sultry tone, licking her lips as she twisted the dial a little bit further to the left. Tracer’s body nearly shimmered as she took another skip forward, and that drop of sweat that had just retreated back into her pores slithered down again in double time. A soft and teasing laugh escaped the throat of the wicked assassin, and she put a hand on her slender hips as she addressed the other woman anew. “Surely you know spiders and their webs, non? You may consider this the very stickiest of them...one that you will be trapped in all evening.”

“E...Evening...hahhh….feels like…” Tracer shuddered, her body twitching and trembling as she hung suspended before the other. Every little bounce and shake of her body showcased the lovely perkiness of her breasts, and the slow grind that she offered the air from a desperate desire to feel contact below. “Feels like...ya’ve had me at yer mercy for...for days.” Days, at least. Sometimes it felt more like weeks. The small laugh that came from Widowmaker’s flawless blue lips was teasing and almost cruel, and the sound of it made Tracer tremble in the past, present, and future all at once.

“Oh, cherie, but it’s only been a few minutes. After all, I am still dressed, non?” She asked the question simply, and spun around on an elegant heel. Dressed was...a word for it. Skintight spandex left nothing at all to the imagination, from the cleft of her lower half in between her thighs to the sight of her stiffened nipples through the fabric at her chest. “Don’t tell me you are one of those selfish boors, always thinking with your own desires!” A flail of her arm accented the dramatic gesture and claim. “And ‘ere I am showing you all the pleasures I can bring a woman with just a few precise touches!”

After all, every girl melted with a few kisses, a few licks, and a few cranks on her chronal accelerator. Widowmaker chuckled again as she twisted the knob back and pushed a lever into place, making sure that Tracer slipped back a few seconds and practically froze in place there. Time slowed down to the slowest of the slow for the young agent, and while she was frozen in that tense state Widowmaker moved forward and lowered herself down to her knees. A wide grin spread across her cruel blue features, and as she knelt before the bound and restrained girl she finally began to work.

Tracer wasn’t in a situation to respond. Effectively frozen in time, the pretty and perky young thing remained motionless while Widowmaker teased her tongue across those well-soaked folds. Even fighting against the agony of the timestream in another’s hands Tracer had managed to get herself soaking, achingly wet...her pussy was raw and desperate and in dire, dire need of attention. Attention that Widowmaker gave her now with a grin, her blue lips closed around her hood while her tongue started to flick back and forth. Every lick brought a new flavor of the time trapped young woman, and since Tracer wasn’t in much of a position to respond Widowmaker allowed herself to enjoy it. More than she normally would, at least. She savored each taste like it was a fine sip of wine, enjoying it by rolling her tongue slowly back and forth across her lips and gulping each tantalizing taste down with a sensual swallow that Tracer would never see. From above her, Tracer’s body remained completely trapped, moving a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a second for each one that Widowmaker enjoyed. And within that timespan, to her own internal senses, the young woman’s body was trapped in a frame of pleasure that simply didn’t seem to end.

Licking her for seconds? It was hours to Tracer, an hour of a warm tongue pressed firmly against her hood. Hours of it locked in place against her folds, keeping her just excited enough within her bindings to keep her at her very edge. The fashion in which her chronal accelerator manipulated time was cruel indeed when it came to the art of sensual play, and Widowmaker was able to tease the young woman beyond the capabilities of any other. Tracer’s head was spinning, and it took every last ounce of the young woman’s energy to keep herself from going completely mad. And even if she didn’t get there completely...she’d be damned close by the end of it.

Three more slow licks; that was all it took for Widowmaker to be satisfied with Lena’s flavor on her tongue. For her it was just a brief scatter of seconds, but she was confident that with a flick of the remote control Lena would have a drastically different opinion. It was with a wide, coy smirk that Widowmaker took her time standing up, knowing full well that every instant her tongue wasn’t left on Tracer’s slit was another in which the girl was simply left wet and exposed without even so much as the kiss of contact, the faintest glimmer of pleasure resting against a pussy that desperately needed it. She gave a confident chuckle before twisting the device once more, and watched with glee as Tracer shimmered before her head lifted up, practically sobbing as she barked at the other girl.

“W...Where did you go just now!?” She begged, her hips thrusting forward, bucking at a touch that wasn’t there anymore. Her erratic time placement made itself known once more as her voice rose and fell in random waves, the pitch shifting while the speed stayed the same. “I thought you left! I...I didn’t feel your for hours!”

“Oh cherie, I wouldn’t leave you until we’re done.” Widowmaker assured her, and moved a hand forward to caress the girl’s cheek. As she drew in close her other hand lowered and she hooked a finger inward, collecting on a single digit a tiny taste of the other woman’s nectar. With a confident and wicked smile Widowmaker drew that glistening finger forward, whispering fondly to the girl as she pressed it against her tongue. “But I confess I have been...most selfish. You’d no doubt like a taste of wine too, yes?”

Her finger pressed against Lena’s lovely pink tongue, swiping in one downward motion and leaving the layer glistening against the girl. Before Tracer had a chance to swallow she pulled the time device back once more and watched as Tracer’s pupils dilated and the motions of her body came to a standstill. What was better than hours of being licked and teased, at the very edge of delight? Hours of doing it while forced to taste the proof of your own bliss. By the time Widowmaker allowed speed to resume Lena had become deeply familiar with her own intense flavor, and though the dial had only been turned for a few short seconds it was long enough in her time trapped anomaly for her to barely remember the sensation of having no flavor at all within her mouth.

“S...So...so wet…” Tracer practically sobbed again, and her head dropped forward until it landed on Widowmaker’s shoulder. She simply hung there helpless before the other woman, her hands suspended above her head and her legs forced to spread, leaning against the body that stood so very, very close to her. It could’ve been anyone that she leaned against for support, but regardless of that fact the contact wasn’t lost on the assassin. With a calm touch Widowmaker allowed her fingers to slip up the back of Tracer’s neck, and she held off from the remote for a few moments, giving the girl a chance to catch her breath in the present. Then, with a gentle kiss to the side of Tracer’s neck, she gave her a slow whisper that sent a chill along her sweat-marked flesh.

“Be strong, cherie. We are...not even nearly done.” Though she sounded compassionate, nothing could be further from the truth. Every drop of sweat on Tracer’s brow and every whimper from the sweet young thing was a true delight for the wicked widow, a treasure to be cherished and embraced. If she had the power she would’ve made great use of that same chronal accelerator for her own purposes, if only to let her enjoy the sounds of Lena in whimpering, desperate pleasure until the very end of time itself. C’est la vie.

“No...no more, I can’t...it’s toooooooooooooooooooo muuuuuuuuuuuchtotakeyou’reamonsteryouknowtha--ahhhhhh!” The scattered sound of Tracer’s voice returned when she saw Widowmaker’s hands in motion again, once drifting towards her slit while the other tightened her grasp around her remote. As the sweeping winds of time overtook her again Tracer could only hear one thing quickly, one promise that carried her into a web of hours and seconds and screams and whimpers, all ushered to her on the menacing yet sultry voice of the other woman.

“Think of the finale, cherie. What a reward it shall be.”

The words came in tandem with a soft touch in between Lena’s legs, two fingers once more easing themselves against her folds and rubbing in a slow, sensual circle. Despite the torment she had been subjected to thus far Tracer couldn’t help but lean her head back and moan, her lips parting and her eyes closing as a sweeping joy overtook her. The fingers were hungrier than before, pushing past her tender slit and working inside of her, pushing in deep enough that she could feel the hint of Widowmaker’s first knuckles...then her second...and then finally her third. Once she felt the blue palm resting against her lap Tracer’s moaning face drew a delirious smile across her lips, and with a triumphant noise of joy she tightened her slit around the other woman’s fingers and gave her a hard, affectionate squeeze. After so much teasing, after so much tormenting...finally, after long last, Widowmaker would give her a deeper satisfaction!

Fzzzzzp!

“Think of the finale, cherie. What a reward it shall be.”

The words came in tandem with a soft touch in between Lena’s legs, two fingers once more easing themselves against her folds and rubbing in a slow, sensual circle. Despite the torment she had been subjected to thus far Tracer couldn’t help but lean her head back and moan, her lips parting and her eyes closing as a sweeping joy overtook her. The fingers were hungrier than before, pushing past her tender slit and working inside of her, pushing in deep enough that she could feel the hint of Widowmaker’s first knuckles...then her second...and then finally her third. Once she felt the blue palm resting against her lap Tracer’s moaning face drew a delirious smile across her lips, and with a triumphant noise of joy she tightened her slit around the other woman’s fingers and gave her a hard, affectionate squeeze. After so much teasing, after so much tormenting...finally, after long last, Widowmaker would give her a deeper satisfaction!  
“Do...do you ever get that feeling of...of dej-”

Fzzzzzp!

“Think of the finale, cherie. What a reward it shall be.”

The words came in tandem with a soft touch in between Lena’s legs, two fingers once more easing themselves against her folds and rubbing in a slow, sensual circle. Despite the torment she had been subjected to thus far Tracer couldn’t help but lean her head back and moan, her lips parting and her eyes closing as a sweeping joy overtook her. The fingers were hungrier than before, pushing past her tender slit and working inside of her, pushing in deep enough that she could feel the hint of Widowmaker’s first knuckles...then her second...and then finally her third. Once she felt the blue palm resting against her lap Tracer’s moaning face drew a delirious smile across her lips, and with a triumphant noise of joy she tightened her slit around the other woman’s fingers and gave her a hard, affectionate squeeze. After so much teasing, after so much tormenting...finally, after long last, Widowmaker would give her a deeper satisfaction!

“Oh...oh no...oh no…” Lena whimpered, realizing just what was happening. It took her a few turns to realize it, thanks in part to the heavy wet haze that clung to her senses and thanks to Widowmaker’s precision skill at keeping her prey dangling by a thread. But before too long she felt the woman’s blue digits at the entrance to her sex once more, and again the assassin’s voice filled the air around them, reaffirming Tracer’s suspicion.

“Think of the finale, cherie. What a reward it shall be.”

Fingers pressing, her pussy tightening, and knuckles passing one after the other until she felt that hilt again. The chronal accelerator strapped to her chest wasn’t done with its new job as Widowmaker’s favorite sex toy, and Tracer found herself trapped in a moment of insertion that made her senses reel like she never knew they could. She typically prided herself in having a charming quip for nearly any situation, but there in Widowmaker’s den reliving the same moment of penetration Tracer was left truly speechless. Again and again her slit was spread and she felt that wonderful moment where blue fingers wiggled about into her depths, only to have the seconds rewind all the way back to the beginning. Push, retreat, push, retreat...in a way, it wasn’t too different from the act of being claimed properly, but with each press of those blue fingers feeling as if it was stretching her for the first time, Lena was left truly confounded and delighted and overwhelmed all in the same breath.

And just when things couldn’t get any more intense for the sweet young time hopper…  
!noitcafsitas repeed a reh evig dlouw rekamwodiW ,tsal gnol retfa ,yllanif...gnitnemrot hcum os retfa ,gnisaet hcum os retfA

“.eb llahs ti drawer a tahW .eirehc ,elanif eht fo knihTThink of the finale, cherie. What a reward it shall be.”

She wasn’t merely hopping back in her own personal time anymore, she was crawling. Her typical swift leaps back happened in an instant, and during Widowmaker’s endless teasing the woman had delighted in forcing Tracer to relive that moment of first insertion from the very beginning in the blink of an eye. Fingers outside, fingers inside, flash of light, fingers outside and ready to go inside. Now the loop was much more complete, like a record spun to its final track and then forced to play back at its original speed. Fingers outside, fingers inside, screeching halt. Fingers inside, slowly pulling outside. Fingers. Inside. Outside. Cherie. Finale. Reward. Fingers. Pussy. Wet. Desperate.

“Gaaaaaah!” She was unable to contain herself anymore, and though she desperately wanted to climax the assassin’s touch was simply too precise and teasing to allow it. All she could do was break into a whimpering scream through her torment, those blue digits getting slick only once, but penetrating her entrance dozens upon dozens of times. She couldn’t even be sure if anything she saw took place in real time anymore, but she didn’t need to. She knew damn well that Widowmaker was likely there watching so very close, smirking her cocky grin and playing around with a technology she couldn’t possibly understand. The chronal accelerator wasn’t a sex toy! It was the finest piece of technology known to man! Her saving grace! And...a prison of the lewdest variety that she feared she’d be trapped in for an eternity.

She just wanted to cum. After all this time, after hours and days and seconds and Plancks, after jiffies and dashes and zeptoseconds and kes, after two shakes of a lamb’s tail and flashes...it just kept going. Fortnights?! Sidereal years?! Lustrums?! She couldn’t possibly know anymore, for within her trapped prison of time and teasing Tracer was left moaning, desperate, and penetrated an incalculable number of times. Those perfect flawless folds of hers pierced like the ticking seconds on a lock marching on, and words that flowed in her mind again and again and again until they became the background static of her eternity.

“Think of the finale, cherie. What a reward it shall be.”

“Y...Yes...yes...reward…”

“Think of the finale, cherie. What a reward it shall be.”

“I’m thinking about it...it’s all I can think about…”

It was true. Her mind could think of nothing else. Every few seconds Widowmaker reminded her to not forget, and every few seconds that assassin’s voice enchanted Tracer even more. She couldn’t remember the circumstances in which she had been tied, whether the bindings around her arms and legs came by her own request or by Widowmaker’s cruel intentions...or even if there had ever been a time when they weren’t there. All she knew was the erotic words whispered against her throat, the gentle breath of the assassin on her throat, and the moment in which two fingers went deep within her, pressing against her walls and planting to the hilt. And once they were there they drew back out, only to repeat the process again. The feel of knuckles and sweet slender digits teasing her heated and wet walls were like the steady measurement of her own breath, and every part of little Tracer’s body mirrored itself a thousand times over as the moment replayed. Sweat that ran back and forth a well-weathered lane of her brow. A line of drool that clung from the bottom of her lip, bouncing up and down on a whisper thin thread yet never breaking. Nipples that stiffened at the moment of impact, only to shrink down ever so slightly when time relapse to the moment when Widowmaker didn’t have fingers inside of her.

Tracer’s prison was pleasure, and she remained there for as long as Widowmaker desired.

Not a degasecond more. Not a biennium less.

After hearing the same words dozens, even hundreds of times Tracer almost didn’t realize it when they finally shifted. And to be fair, she couldn’t even be sure that she had heard the change the first time. But sure enough, with her senses still reeling and her experience shifting in an almost imperceptible fashion, something about the drawn out and repeated moment changed. Just slightly. Just a word.

“Think of the finale, pet. What a reward it shall be.”

It had only been a single word’s difference, but it had been clearly intentional. That wicked assassin had changed the rules of the game she herself had made up, and left Tracer to struggle and see if she could regain the pace. Everything about the moment was the same as it was; she had even pulled her fingers clear from Tracer’s slit so she could have the fun of re-inserting them to emulate that moment. But the words...the words changed, and that hypnotic, enchanting mantra that spun through Tracer’s mind had been toyed with and manipulated just enough to clue the young woman in.

She couldn’t say how many times she felt it before realizing it, or how many times pet had replaced cherie in the chant of her submission. But once she was aware, her body started to notice. The slight shift in the other woman’s knuckles, the changes in her own body...all those repeated steps were different from the hundred before. In what felt like years she had effectively only moved thirty seconds, each one of them earned with sweat, nectar, moaning, and a teasing that bordered on torment. Her head continued to spin and her thoughts remained lost on her pleasure, and she gave herself up to this new experience and this new nickname as if the entire event was sparkling and fresh. A swift rewind. Then a slower pace. Then a fast forward. Then an agonizingly slooooooooooow baaaaaacktraaaaaaaaack.

And then, back so far to be called cherie once more. Then pet. Then cherie again two more times. Then pet. Pet. Cherie. Pet. Each one of them came with their own unique moment of insertion, different positions of the woman’s fingers and different tingles that ran through Tracer’s body. She didn’t just have one flickering moment of delight to live in now but two; her universe effectively doubled as it manifested across her flesh in the shimmer of her chronal accelerator and the touch of wicked blue fingers. And through it all Tracer moaned, lewd and loud and desperate, craven for any sort of release. Had it been years in coming yet? Did time even begin to matter anymore? All she knew was fingers inside of her, a wickedly sensual voice, and a pair of names that she could call her own.

Lena? Tracer? Who the hell were they. She was now simply Cherie...or Pet. It seemed to depend on the time.

Either way and under whatever name she knew herself as, Cherie’s moment of release came suddenly and surprisingly, and at the very same moment concluded the longest buildup of an orgasm in human history. Widowmaker had rushed the girl ahead to that very moment, to when her body convulsed and her orgasm began, her thighs tightening and her eyes opening wide. Her voice, taken to a loud and desperate scream rose through the air around her, and a glorious warmth crossed over every last inch of her naked, bound, and teased body.

And it was there, preciously hovering across her, sweeping her up in a heaven after what felt like a lifetime of wait, and then...and then…

Stasis. Trapped. Motionless and aware of nothing but her own body, of the pleasure that had been frozen inside of her. She knew enough to know that her chronal accelerator couldn’t actively stop time; such notions were the work of silly science fiction! It could; however, slow it down so drastically, so enormously, that it was almost completely imperceptible to the senses. Especially her senses, which right there at that fragmented fraction of a fraction of a sliver of a yoctosecond? Were helplessly, completely, and entirely overwhelmed.

Frozen. Mid-orgasm. For what could very well be an eternity hiding within the span of time it took for an assassin to smirk.

On the outside of Tracer’s timely prison, Widowmaker did just that as she slipped her tongue calmly around her lips. Her fingers were still within Tracer, and the young woman was completely motionless yet certainly in the very heat of a glorious moment. To say that Widowmaker had won against the young woman would be a clear understatement; she hadn’t just beaten her rival but bested her on a fundamental level that shattered the girl’s reality, that broke her physics and her placement in the grid of space and time. All at the tip of her fingers, thanks to a handy little device snugly fit within her free palm.

“You belong to me now, cherie.” Widowmaker whispered, under the natural assumption that she would begin to hear the words in a few years...and take several more to fully listen until she was finished. And once she made it through that haze, through that endless cycle of a thrilling orgasm, she’d be rewarded not just with Widowmaker’s promise but with the faint, light kiss that soon came after. Pressed against lips that were frozen in time, pressed against a mouth that wouldn’t realize it was kissed until longer than most people lived. That little chronal accelerator was a thing of beauty indeed, and Widowmaker fondly ran her fingers across the outer rim of it, studying the bright blue core that glowed steadily, casting light and shadows across Tracer’s elegant frame.

She would make an absolutely wonderful trophy. A living testament to what Widowmaker could do to a girl with just a few fingers, a perfectly framed piece of naked art. And no matter how many times Widowmaker returned to her she would still be wet; wet enough to take a lick, and warm enough to give a kiss. The blue woman gave a tiny laugh as she turned towards the grappling hooks that kept Tracer locked into place, and she pondered cutting the young woman down in order to transport her. She had the perfect spot for her; a display case in her chambers where she could enjoy the sight of her new piece of art for years and years to come.

She even had a plate engraved for the case; “Cherie in Eternal Bliss.”

“...perhaps not eternal, but close enough.” Widowmaker mused, and turned on an elegant heel as she moved towards one of the grappling hooks. She was certain that before too long her curiosity would get the best of her and she’d toy with her new device once more; bringing her new piece of art back to reality and enjoying her in a more...conventional fashion. By then, she could only imagine just how broken her pet would be, how deep and hungrily she would worship the widow goddess that had recreated a timeline for her in which only orgasmic delight existed. Hell, if someone had done the same for her, she certainly knew she would.

It was on that note that a look crossed the blue woman’s face, her gaze turned towards the grappling hook keeping one of Tracer’s legs suspended. She was nearly there, nearly ready to cut her down and scoop her up, deliver her to a display case and let her live there for as long as she did...and yet something inside of her stayed her hand. She had given Tracer what was essentially paradise. A lifetime of a single orgasm, perhaps the most powerful that any human had ever experienced. Though from the outside it could be considered cruel, deep down...the assassin felt a moment of envy. And moreover, a moment of affection.

“...if only I could share it with you. Lena.” Widowmaker whispered, her tone softer than it had been the entire evening, and the girl’s name slipping from her tongue with an almost sad note to it. After all, things in the world were rarely what they desired...and Overwatch’s star player could never find a place alongside what Widowmaker had become. It made her ache deep down; the very fragments of what the blue woman once considered her heart. They could not be happy together for eternity...and so instead, she would make it endure forever for her dear, dear Lena.

It would be many many many many years before Lena heard her name again, spoken over the course of months by a voice drawn out almost impossibly slowly. When she’d hear it, she likely wouldn’t recognize it...but she would recognize the voice of the woman that gave her an eternity of joy.

At least...for now.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! This was definitely an odd one to write, but fun!
> 
> [Here I am on tumblr!](http://dracedomino.tumblr.com) Check me out if you'd like to see more of my writing.


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